To Hold and To Cherish
by acommontater
Summary: They say that if you love something, to let it go. They have obviously never been in love.


A/N: This is a mirror/companion piece to 'To Love and Defend', but both can be read on their own. This is written in a very different style, but try not to let that throw you off. :)

Disclaimer; I own nothing. Except perhaps the Jelly Bellys I'm eating right now. Delicious.

* * *

><p><em>If you love someone, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they do not, they never were. - Anonymous <em>

* * *

><p><em>The only way of knowing a person is to love them without hope. -Walter Benjamin<em>

* * *

><p>Liar.<p>

He stares down at the engraved quotation.

It was such a lie.

He had **Loved** so much stronger than the unknown author of this quote ever had. How dare this faceless person dispence false information?

They don't say how '_letting go_' is not just a one sided decision. It goes both ways, and it hurts.

Because '_letting go_' turns into _screamingangryterriblehurting_ fights.

Because when you are trying to let someone go, trying to let them be free, they have to _want_ to leave. They have to '_let go_' too.

Because when they refuse, just pull and brand their eternal** Love** into the very core of your being, it leaves you with scars too deep to ever fully heal.

* * *

><p>There are too many (<em>horrible-beautiful-angry-need-to-be-kissed-away<em>_) _tears in his eyes.

Because he doesn't (_can't_) understand, doesn't (_shouldn't_) see the _angerjudgmentpain**hate**_ in the world that you do.

You are protecting him- none of what is ruined can ever be allowed to touch him or ever be near him.

You can't be near him.

Can't ruin him or taint him or hurt him.

So, you let go.

* * *

><p>You stop using the <em>"I <strong>Love<strong> you"_'s that used to be so plentiful.

Force yourself to stop wanting (to _touchfeelholdkeep**Love**_) so much, stop being so selfish.

Let him be free.

* * *

><p>Finally, finally, he leaves.<p>

He goes to take his shining city by a storm, with his best friend at his side.

He is _hurtingangryconfusedscared_, but he is safe.

From you.

From your family.

From everything here.

He is safe and you let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>You wait and wait and wait.<p>

He doesn't come back.

* * *

><p>You see his name eventually, years later, in the glossy pages of a magazine you had both adored.<p>

It appears more and more often in glossy pages, sometimes alongside the name of the-girl-you-once-kissed who is rising just as quickly.

* * *

><p>You go to California- lose yourself in the sun and the surf and people and the bright lights.<p>

Not music. Never music.

Because if you start to play something, the random chords will always start sounding like an old pop song that _aches_ in the center of your chest, and when you try to sing, you always find yourself waiting (always _waitingwaitingwaiting_) for another, sweeter voice to join you.

You drown yourself in _sunsurfpeople_ until you can only hear the pounding of your own heart.

(_Coward coward coward_ it pumps.)

* * *

><p>You see his name in a bright-bubbled wedding announcement.<p>

You run out of the store before you embarrass yourself.

* * *

><p>You get a call one day from an old friend (<em>softandsweetandsadsadsad)<em> from your old glee club.

Her voice is soft (you wish that voices could come in blanket form so that you could wrap yourself up in her warm, familier tone and never leave.) and you remember rollicking duets belted out in the too-empty choir room.

Maybe if voices were blankets you wouldn't feel so cold or empty and would have something to soak up your tears.

* * *

><p>You <em>let go<em> because you **Loved** too much.

You **Loved** and _let go_ and lost far too much.

You stare as they lower the smooth wooden box into the ground (_the color of the velvet had been the wrong color for his skin and her would've thrown a fit about it if.._.)

You stare at the ground where they have buried your heart.

You have** Loved** and _let go_, and now you are merely...

...lost.

* * *

><p>AN: Yep. Wheeeeee. Let me know your thoughts! :D


End file.
